Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Dominica and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Human League to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Brick,
Shuggie Otis,
Pole,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Josef K,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Red Krayola,
Deadbeat,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Gang Dance,
La Düsseldorf,
Sparks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T.S.O.L.,
Gong,
Sex Pistols,
Pagans,
Ronan,
Kerrie Biddell,
June Days,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Simply Red,
Blake Baxter,
Model 500,
Harmonia,
Shoche,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Index,
Fluxion,
The Knickerbockers,
Boredoms,
Jeru the Damaja,
Arthur Verocai,
Mad Mike,
Chris & Cosey,
Alton Ellis,
Bronski Beat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hashim,
Connie Case,
The Pop Group,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fatback Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Brand Nubian,
Pulsallama,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pussy Galore,
Bauhaus,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Urselle,
Saccharine Trust,
Glenn Branca,
B.T. Express,
Negative Approach,
Oblivians,
Gastr Del Sol,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.